"Good job, Neal!" Emma praised her four-year-old brother when he placed another colourful handprint on one of her old T-shirts. They were sitting on the living room floor that is covered with a drop cloth as they painted, surrounded by some of Neal's paints and a box that contained other shirts Emma had gathered for them to paint on.
Neal beamed. "Do you think mommy will like it?" he asked.
Emma ruffled her little brother's hair. "I'm positive."
Emma and Neal were having an afternoon all to themselves while their parents attended to Storybrooke matters at the town hall. Normally Emma attended such meetings with David and Snow, but she opted out this time as her presence was not required. She was glad to be able to spend some time with her brother today.
Since Neal was on a painting streak lately, Emma thought of making their mom and dad a couple of handprint shirts. She and Neal were painting on their second shirt when Emma's phone rang. It was Regina, asking Emma for assistance in creating a potion.
"I'd like to do that, but I'm watching Neal right now," Emma told Regina. "My parents are due back any minute now anyway so if it's okay I can drop by later to help you with that potion. Although I must say, it's strange that you are asking me to do so. I think I should be recording this conversation."
"Ha-ha, very funny, Emma." Regina replied wryly. "Okay, just let me know when you're good to go."
"Okay I will. Bye." Emma hung up. She was about to turn to her brother and see what he's up to when her phone rang again. Emma was distracted for a good thirty minutes by an old Storybrooke resident complaining nonstop about nosey neighbours poking into his business. When she finally put her phone down, she noticed Neal was waiting for her and was clutching something tightly behind his back. He looked excited.
"Look, Emma! I made something for you too!" Neal said, his eyes shining. He brought out the object from behind him.
Emma felt her blood turn to ice.
Neal was holding her baby blanket, or what looked like her precious baby blanket. It was now decorated with splotches of red, green, yellow, and blue paint all over. There were even tiny handprints on it that adorned the swatch of cloth in the corner that bore Emma's name. Emma couldn't stop the words from snapping out from her mouth. Or the way they came out.
"Neal! What have you done?! That's mine!" Emma screamed. She grabbed the blanket from Neal more harshly than she meant to.
"You... you don't like it?" Neal asked, confused. "But I made it for you. I saw it in the box with the T-shirts."
Emma didn't answer. She couldn't speak at all. She mentally kicked herself for being careless with her baby blanket and at the same time felt annoyed with Neal for getting into her things without asking for permission. As for Neal, he only had to take one look at his older sister's face to know that she was not happy with what he did. The thunderous expression in her eyes terrified him so much so that he burst into tears.
"I'm sorry, Emma!" Neal wailed, flinging his arms around Emma's legs.
Emma pried him loose. "You do not touch my things! Do you understand me?" she all but bellowed at him. Tears were starting to make their way down her own cheeks. That made Neal try to make a go for her legs again but she pushed him away, making him cry harder. She ignored him and went straight to the sink to wash the paint off.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Emma kept repeating while desperately trying to scrub off the garish paint. Unfortunately, it had already dried in several places, making it more difficult for her to remove everything. The flood of tears and badly shaking hands weren't helping matters. Finally she just gave up and sank to the floor weeping silently, clutching the ruined blanket to her chest. Neal, who had retreated to a corner in the kitchen, crawled over to Emma and sat down beside her. Even if he still felt afraid of Emma he couldn't bear to see her so sad.
The sight of Neal hiccuping beside her melted Emma's heart. She couldn't bear to see him scared of her, especially since it wasn't really his fault that her baby blanket was tossed in the box along with the shirts. Emma slung an arm over her little brother's shoulder and held him close.
"I'm really sorry, Emma," Neal whispered. "I didn't mean to do it."
Emma placed a gentle kiss on top of Neal's head. "I know you didn't, kid. It's all right. I'm sorry too."
"You are?"
"I shouldn't have yelled at you. Do you forgive me?"
Neal nodded vigorously, throwing his arms around his sister. Emma had to smile in spite of herself. Now that she had calmed down somewhat, she gently set down her blanket on the floor, sat Neal on her lap and wrapped her arms around him. The baby blanket can wait, Emma thought with a twinge to her heart. It had given her a sense of comfort and security all those times that she needed them growing up, but for now she would have to put Neal first. She'll figure out a way to fix her blanket later.
The two then sat in silence for a while, still sniffling from time to time.